Do You Regret Me?
by greenstuff2
Summary: This is a one shot under the Where's Molly? challenge
1. Chapter 1

"Are you regretting us … me?

You know, there were times when I used to get worried that anyone who was anywhere nearby was going to be able to see just how difficult it was, how the hell did she think I felt? Do I sound as though I got annoyed with her for asking that question? Well, I did a bit at the time, of course I did, it didn't seem to occur to her at all that she had the power to drive me nuts. I remember how I used to be whenever we were in the same space, how I would be completely aware of her and how she would come bouncing up to me with this huge smile on her face so that anyone who'd been looking at us would have been able to read her body language in an instant even if they couldn't hear what she was saying. She was gorgeous, for all I know she probably still is, what am I talking about, of course she still is, but she's not mine any more. I used to want to scoop her up every time I saw her, especially when she was laughing and joking with bloody Smurf even though I knew, because she told me over and over, that there was nothing going on between them, and I believed her, because, let's face it, I wanted to believe her, but that didn't stop me hating every single minute of it.

He always seemed to be hanging around her so that where she went he invariably followed and I saw the way he looked at her, the way his eyes used to follow her about everywhere and the way his jokes, his banter was packed full of that cocky "god's gift to the girls" innuendo when he talked to her, and I saw the way she dismissed it, dismissed _him,_ as a complete irrelevance, but that didn't make it any easier. We were all devastated when he died, of course we were, Molly included and it was probably far worse for her than for anyone else because she was with him when it happened and there is a big hole in the platoon which still has his name on it, almost as big as the one where Molly used to be.

If we had met anywhere else other than the shit hole that was Afghan, I'm not counting Brize, that was me being an arse that day for some reason, and under any other circumstances at all then I doubt we'd have had any sort of relationship. She would just have been an irritating teenage girl that I'd met somewhere. Pretty? Yes, very, but light years too young for me to even notice so I would never have known anything more about her other than possibly how attractive she is, well, there's no _possibly_ about it, I would have noticed, and sexy? Definitely, but that would have been all. So her question that day about whether or not we were a mistake would never have happened.

I never meant to fall in love with her. I would have laughed and told you that you were fucking insane if you'd suggested anything like that when I first set eyes on her on the tarmac at Brize or when we first arrived at Bastion, but it just crept up on me so that I couldn't even tell you exactly when it started. I don't think it was a result of her exploits in that bloody minefield, fucking awesome as they were or when she stood there holding that kid's hand just a few feet from being red-misted by a suicide bomb and then refused to obey my order to leave until Bashira was safe, they all filled me with this mixture of relief that she was still in one piece mixed with a longing to shake her until her teeth rattled, but was that love? I don't know. I don't even know whether it was the way my stomach lurched with a message to my groin when she stood there in my cabin wearing that bloody West Ham top and grinning at me the way she did, or when she sang with me, all shiny hair and toothy grin, all I do know is that the day she went off on R&R with bloody Smurf was the day I realised just how much trouble I was in.

I spent the whole time she was away getting myself back under control and it was easy to dismiss all the gossip and innuendo from the lads as just that, idle gossip with no real basis in fact, and then it all went out of the fucking window the minute she got back and I found out that she'd been in Newport with the Welsh idiot. The bitter jealousy I felt that day was one of the hardest things I've ever had to deal with, well, I thought that that was true until we came on this tour. I was convinced I was getting over it, getting over her and moving on, well, that was until we got out here and the lads kept on talking about her. They kept telling our new medic all about her, about how much they loved her, how they still do love her, so how the fuck am I supposed to forget and get on with my life when they keep on bringing her name into the conversation, reminding me ….. I want to scream at them to "Shut the fuck up" but I can't do that, can I?

Our new medic seems okay, Corporal Lane, Georgia, she's a very pleasant girl, the lads seem to like her a lot and she's efficient, looks like she knows what she's doing, is good at her job, she's also good looking and at least she follows my orders, doesn't just ignore the one's she doesn't like or answer me back with a cheeky grin on her face, but she's not Molly.

Molly asked me whether I had regrets, and the answer is yes, of course. My life would have been a hell of a lot easier if Molly Dawes had been just another teenage squaddie like all the other teenage squaddies I'd known over the years, but she wasn't and she isn't and I would give anything right now to be given another chance to work things out with her, to put things right. I would love to be able to wipe away all that fucking nonsense that we both sat there and spouted about us being better off apart now that we were back in our real lives, about us moving on with our bloody careers and about the huge gap in our ages and all the rest of that crap, because I miss her.

But her question was did I _**regret**_ her? And the answer to that is always going to be _**no, never.**_

Seeing the friends and families all waiting in Arrivals at Brize is always a great moment, especially when, like today, we've arrived back in one piece, with no-one missing. Watching how happy everyone looks when they're giving and getting the hugs and the kisses from their wives and their kids and their girlfriends or their proud parents has underlined for me exactly what I need to do now, and I'm going to do it just as soon as the audience has fucked off. Actually, on second thoughts, I'm not sure I can wait that long, I'm a bit worried that the number I have is still the right one, that it hasn't been changed for any reason.

"Hello"

"Hello Dawsey, missed me?"

-OG-

 _ **A/N: Okay so you were all right, cleaning is bl**dy over-rated! I was bored rigid after one day and not being one to ignore a challenge have just decided not to air the duvets, it's raining anyway, and to throw this little one shot together instead. Be nice, oh, and please try not to say 'told you so'**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**THE CALL**_

Her silence was deafening, so long and so absolute that he thought for a minute that they'd been cut off or that she'd disconnected because she hadn't recognised his voice, or, and this was the worst possible scenario, that she had recognised him and had then simply hung up. He instinctively checked the signal and was reassured when he saw that the call was apparently still alive.

"Molly? Molls, it's me, Charles" He paused and waited for another few seconds "Can you hear me? Please say something if you're still there"

"I know who it is" She sounded wary, her voice flat, as though she wasn't exactly full of delight at hearing him "I just didn't know what to say" He heard her take a deep breath and then make a sort of gulping noise as if she'd swallowed hard "What do you want Charles?" Her voice was now as distant and as packed full of ice crystals as she could manage.

er voice was H

The icy tone took him aback as he realised that he didn't actually know what he was going to say next either. He hadn't planned that far ahead and was now dismayed to realise that maybe he should have, especially as he'd acquired an audience so that whatever he did say would have to be very carefully monitored before the words left his mouth. He turned his head away from the noisy circle of lads and their significant others that were surrounding him and waved them away as he hunched over and cupped his hand round the phone, sticking his finger in his other ear, doing his absolute damnedest to give the impression that their racket was making it impossible for him to hear, which it would have done if she'd actually been saying anything. In fact everyone shouting and laughing at the same time along with kids screaming their excitement meant that there was a raucous din echoing around the place, a din that was making him wish that he'd followed his first instincts and waited before he'd made the call.

His voice had come as a complete shock, and not a very welcome one, he was the last person she'd ever expected, or wanted, to hear from again. It had been well over a year since the day that she'd woken up with the sickening realisation that the unnamed fear which had been sitting like a cold lump in the pit of her stomach for weeks had gone, the fear that they were actually slowly going to shit was in the past, she'd been right when she'd thought, as she'd always done right from day one, that they were too good to be true, they were, and they'd already gone down the shitter, they were over. Yeah, she was very aware that he'd got a lot going on, that he was worried about his future and about whether he was ever going to be fit again to do what he wanted and on top of that there was all the bollocks about him resigning his commission. She'd seen the irritation on his face as he'd snapped at her, the exasperation when she'd said or done something spectacularly stupid or said the wrong thing completely because she'd misunderstood something, so in the end she'd done the only thing possible, she told him that she was sorry and that he'd been right. She was only twenty and he was far too old for her and that she wanted out. She'd listened when he said stuff, that he didn't want her to go, that he loved her and she knew he wasn't lying and that he meant it at the time he said it, but she'd also seen the blaze of relief in his eyes. So she'd walked away with dry eyes and her head held high and her heart in pieces. She'd told him that she was going to concentrate on her career, on seeing how far she could go, that she was going to do her best to live up to the medal, which, if the truth was told she was still deeply embarrassed about, to see if she could be _brilliant_. Her pride was intact as she'd wished him all the very best knowing that it was what he wanted.

'Her, him, _them'_ had been a mistake, one that he'd obviously regretted as soon as their lives returned to what passed for normal even though he was in and out of re-hab, they were an error of judgment born out of the adrenalin of being in a war zone and being thrown together by the close proximity of that life, but that didn't stop her needing to 'mourn' her dead relationship. She'd done the drinking of too many double Vodkas with her mates while they all slagged him off, even though they'd never met him, didn't even know who the fuck he was and sometimes she'd had the odd double on her own. Vodka which was supposed to help dull the pain a bit, but instead had seemed to make her by-pass the 'pleasantly tipsy, it no longer hurts so much' stage and had lurched her straight into the 'I am so pissed my legs don't belong to me and I can't see straight' stage.

She'd even tried to 'move on' to another bloke so she'd laughed and flirted and drunk too much in a vain attempt to show bloody Charles, well he obviously wasn't there so he wouldn't know and probably wouldn't care anyhow, but she would, she'd wanted to prove something to herself. Except that when it came to it, she couldn't, he was good looking, tall and very fair with hair that had a tendency to stick up so that she'd told him he looked like Ken Dodd and he'd said that in that case she was definitely his 'diddy man'. He was what they call rangy, with very blue eyes and freckles so that he looked nothing like Charles at all, he seemed to her to be a really sweet bloke but then she'd found that she couldn't go through with it, and it didn't matter how many times she'd said she was sorry, he'd still called her all sorts of less than charming names. The names didn't worry her, didn't hurt her or even upset her that much because she actually agreed with his assessment, he was right, she had led him on so she was exactly what he'd said she was, but it was just that she didn't want anyone else, she'd wanted _him_.

But that was then and this was now, and that was all in the past, she'd got her shit back together and come out of it in one piece and it was finished, over, dead. There were a hell of a lot of good reasons why it hadn't worked, why it would never have worked, even if she couldn't think of what they were off-hand, but nevertheless, as far as she was concerned there was nothing left to talk about, it had all been said.

"Where are you?"

She'd had to scratch around for something to say because she already knew exactly where he was, the background noise gave it away for starters and anyhow she'd had a text from Brains about half hour before inviting her to get together with the lads later on before they went back to barracks, an invitation that she'd turned down because she had no wish to sit and listen to them going on about the tour.

"Brize, we've just got back"

Molly had known they'd been in Kenya, Brains had told her all about it in one of his sporadic e-mails months before and at the time she'd burned with resentment and a sort of jealous rage that the lads, _her lads_ , were off on this tour without her. Their new medic was some Corporal who was, again according to Brains, a bit posh but a bit of alright as well so that Molly had tortured herself with all sorts of fantasies about how history was bound to repeat itself between this girl and _him._ It was pretty ironic really that because there was no longer any relationship between her and the boss she could have stayed on with the Under-Fives, she could have been the one to go off to Kenya with them, there was nothing in the way of that, no reason why not at all, except of course that it would have been a fucking nightmare, and he would have put the kibosh on it anyhow.

That didn't mean that she wanted to spend an evening listening to them bantering backwards and forwards about what had gone on, about things she didn't know anything about, especially not if the girl was there as well, and they would have been bound to talk about _him_ and she hadn't wanted to hear it, and now this …..

"Good tour?"

"It was okay"

She'd tried to make it sound as if she was interested even though she didn't give a rat's bum about the tour and he didn't want to talk about it either in case he was tempted to blurt out just how much he'd missed her.

"I just thought I'd give you a call, see how you are, is everything okay with you, are _you_ okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, everything's fine thanks, you?"

"Yup, I'm good too, thanks for asking"

She knew he would be tugging at the curls on the back of his neck, she didn't have to be looking at him to identify the stress in his voice and to know exactly what he'd be doing, at one time she'd known his reactions as well as she'd known her own, the result of hours spent watching him.

"I thought it might be nice to meet up at some point, so I was wondering whether maybe I could take you out for lunch … or dinner. What do you think? I would really like to see you"

There was a long silence as she considered what he'd said, she was tempted to ask him what on earth would be the bloody point of that. It made no sense at all for her to agree to meet him, in fact it would be an exercise in outstanding stupidity on her part because it was bound to open up old wounds, wounds that had taken a long time to heal and if you've got any sense at all you don't go round sticking your fingers in an old wound to see if it's still raw, to see if it still hurts. And, more importantly, why now, why after all this time?

The sensible thing would be for her to say 'thanks but no thanks' followed by 'bye' and 'have a nice life' but that would mean she was always going to be wondering what he'd wanted, why he'd got in touch after such a long time and straight after he'd got off the plane and not knowing any of that would mess with her head. She still knew him well enough to know that there was something he wasn't saying and a possible explanation popped unwanted into her head and hard as she tried, she couldn't just wipe it away. It made sense. She could of course just ask him outright, but he wouldn't just come out and tell her about something like that, it wasn't his style to do that over the phone. He'd just say 'nothing, leave it, it doesn't matter' but he'd have a pretty good idea of how she'd be crapping herself if she heard it on the grapevine which she was bound to do. He knew that it would hurt her even if it wasn't any of her business anymore and he was too kind to let that happen, whatever else had gone on back then, Charles had always been kind to her.

Admitting, even to herself, that hearing his voice after all this time had told her just how much she wanted to see him again, and that was in spite of knowing that having lunch with him, seeing him, talking to him, but most of all listening to what he had to tell her would most likely put her back to step one on her ninety nine step recovery plan.

"I dunno, can I think about it for a bit, give you a shout?"

"Of course, but I've got something I really need to tell you Dawsey, and I can't do it now, not here, not over the phone"

-OG-

 _ **A/N; This started as a "supply your own ending" one shot, and I was absolutely over the moon with your lovely reviews and feedback, so thank you. I listened (or rather read) what people said about wanting to know what happened next (okay Natalie?) and decided to write my own ending, but it is just my idea of what might happen after S2, you, of course, will probably have something entirely different in mind. I will do the final bit, The Lunch, it just depends if that's what people want.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: Sorry, there is going to be one more chapter. My problem is I start writing something and I can see it and hear it unfolding in my head like a sort of film or a t.v. drama and then it starts getting a bit long and I don't want to cut bits … so thanks for your support and I promise that the next is the last (she's said that before I hear you mutter) but I have another story in my head that has just started begging to be written so … please review for me… and ta, as our Molly would say!**_

 _ **THE LUNCH**_

She rolled over and checked the time then wondered why the fuck you always wake up a good hour before the alarm when you're anticipating a horrible day. She'd agreed to meet up with him for lunch, without any bloody intentions of actually doing it, she'd just been buying time to think of what to say, of how to get out of it and now it was too late to do anything like that which served her right for keep putting it off. Now she had to smile and look like she didn't care, that she was happy for him when he told her about playing happy families with what's her name and Sam, or even worse making new ones, although come to think of it he was bleeding unlikely to tell her that, that was just her imagination running riot … .

She'd gone a bit funny when he'd said he had something to tell her and she'd had to concentrate all her efforts on staying upright and waiting while the parade ground stopped shifting around, the rumour factory would have gone into overdrive if she'd gone down because there would only be one possible explanation for some girl fainting on the parade ground and that would have been at least twins. Now as she dragged herself out of her pit, all she could think was that everything she did, shower, breakfast, not that she could eat it, it all took her closer to Oh Fuck O'Clock and that it was now far too late to come up with some illness or other.

-OG-

He'd thought long and hard about where to take her and in the end had settled on the Bingham in Richmond, it was in a nice spot, the restaurant overlooked the towpath and had a set up that reminded him of 'The Cloisters'. He was hoping against hope that it would remind her of that day, that she would remember just what a happy day it had been. As usual he turned up far too early so that he had a long wait, most of which was spent desperately trying to control his impulse to keep drumming his fingers on the table top and constantly checking the time as he waited and waited,. He kept looking up hopefully every time the door swung open and watched as yet another chattering group of people came in, something that happened a lot, it was a busy place. His sense of deja vue was almost overwhelming.

She'd been backwards and forwards to the loo like a yo-yo, twice to have a nervous pee, and twice more to check her make-up and brush her hair again, so that the other passengers on the train must have thought there was something wrong with her. Sitting still simply wasn't an option; she had far too much nervous energy. Having her split ends cut off had resulted in an 'oh shit what the hell was I thinking?' moment which meant that she'd burst into tears when the hairdresser had gone 'Ta-Da' and shown her his handiwork and she could see for herself the way her hair was swinging around her shoulders. She'd wanted to look a bit different, to change something, but now she hated the way she looked even though everyone else kept saying it was lovely, that it really suited her, she could still remember being in bed with him and him running his fingers through her curls, threatening to shoot her if she ever had it cut.

Still, wouldn't matter now and thingy, whatever she was called, probably had lovely long hair with not a split end in sight. On the other hand, fiddling about with hers wasn't going to make it grow five inches by the time she got to Richmond and if she kept on going the way she was she was going to end up with a head full of grease, something she wouldn't mind betting that bloody Georgia didn't have, any more than she had split ends.

Nerves meant that she thought seriously about downing a Vodka to help settle her and to help her get through the next couple of hours, but however tempted she was, one wouldn't be nearly enough, the amount she'd need would mean that she'd end up bloody legless which wouldn't help one little bit. The new shoes that she'd bought and which she loved with a passion were already pinching her toes to buggery so that they were just about on the right side of her pain threshold, but she'd had no intentions of showing up looking like a bloody 'diddy man' especially as Brains had said that this Georgia was a bit of alright, which meant that she would most likely have legs up to her bum, and that would probably be lovely as well, no cellulite in sight. But Molly sort of knew that much as she loved them the shoes were a bit of a mistake, she was going to end up hobbling and wanting to cut her own feet off by the time she was on her way back home.

When she arrived at the Bingham, there was a little group of old age pensioners sitting on the bench outside the entrance enjoying the sunshine as they sneaked a crafty fag, obviously a coach party or something, and they all smiled and said hello to her. Molly would have given anything to go and join them even though she didn't smoke anymore, she hadn't had a fag for years, but to just sit there with them enjoying their company and the sun, anything that would put off the 'oh fuck' moment that was getting closer by the minute.

The surge of relief that he felt when she finally arrived was out of all proportion, she was less than a couple of minutes late but he'd been half convinced that she wasn't going to show at all, she'd sounded pretty distracted when she'd agreed to meet him, so he hadn't been entirely convinced that she wouldn't go away and think better of it. He had this broad grin of happiness spreading across his face as he bit his bottom lip in a failed attempt to stop it, then leapt out of the chair and took long strides to where she was standing near the entrance looking around to see if she could spot him. Her hair looked different but it was shining in the sunlight like he remembered and he knew instantly that she was wearing a pair of those stupid shoes that he used to call 'Dawsies', she looked so much taller than he remembered.

She smiled when she saw him, not a broad grin to match the one he was wearing, but a little tentative lift at the corner of her mouth as if she was unsure of her welcome so that he had to concentrate all his willpower on not grabbing her, not swinging her up into his arms, and definitely not kissing her the way he wanted to.

"You look ….. well"

He'd been about to say beautiful, but checked himself just in time as he gave her a chaste peck on the cheek.

Molly swallowed, her mouth was suddenly the Gobi desert as she tried to give him a genuine smile, this was going to be even worse than her worst nightmare. He looked just the same, he smelled just the same and her bloody treacherous heart had flipped over just the same, so that she wanted to scream and ask what the fuck she was doing there, why was she doing this to herself?

"Yeah you too, see you got yourself a bit of a suntan" She didn't kiss him back but licked her lips trying to force some moisture into her mouth "Do the taxpayers know you've been off sunbathing at their expense?"

"Probably not" He laughed "Anyway I haven't, it was work"

"Yeah, well, you would say that wouldn't you?"

"It's true"

He was smiling as he protested and pulled her chair out for her, then smiled at the waitress as she handed them the menu folders. He offered to choose for Molly, grinning and knowing full well that she'd refuse, but he was, once again, shamelessly hoping it would remind her of Bath, of the day they'd first gone to bed together and how happy they'd been after all those months of mutual longing.

There was an expression of complete incredulity on her face as he placed his order so that her eyebrows shot up almost to her hairline.

"Nettles, bleeding nettle soup, are you nuts?"

"Have you ever tasted it? It's lovely"

"Not bleeding likely, nettles are weeds and they're what the dogs piss on in east Ham"

She began to giggle and pretend to shudder, reminding him so vividly of the Molly of old that he couldn't help laughing with her, the atmosphere between them reminded him of a time when she'd been one of his squaddies and she'd had the power to make him laugh like that and he'd fallen so much in love with her. They had been completely happy just being in each other's company.

"Lovely … I'm sure they'll wash them before they cook them"

"Bleeding hope so if you're gonna eat them"

He put his head back and laughed, remembering the day he'd ordered Pesto in an Italian and she'd asked him why he was eating mashed weeds with his spaghetti and why he hadn't ordered a proper sauce with toma'oes in it. He'd taken her seriously for a minute or two so that he'd begun to describe what Pesto was and had offered her a taste until he'd realised that she was ripping the piss out of him. He was so tempted now to remind her of that day, but once again he stopped, worried that this could easily turn into a 'do you remember' session.

"Seems like a nice place" She looked around and then out of the window at the sun glinting on the river.

"What the restaurant?" His sense of deju vue returned with full force.

"Well, yeah, but I was actually talking about here, Richmond, the river 'n that"

"Yes it is, we can go for a walk along the towpath after lunch if you like"

His words hit her with the force of a slap in the face as she reminded herself that he was obviously waiting till they got out of here before he told her about thingy, that he was probably a bit worried that she would kick off, would have a shitfit, make a bloody scene or something …

"How are you getting on with your new CO"

"He's okay I s'pose, I think he's got something a bit wrong with his tongue though, looks like it's too bloody big for his mouth so it's always hanging out a bit and he keeps on licking his lips with this big fat lolloping thing, like a cow or some'ing, …. yuck….. Course it might just be that he always talks to me tits, I don't think he's looked at me face once since he got there"

"I'll kill him"

"What? Don't talk cobblers, you can't do that" She was giggling, forgetting for a moment all about monitoring closely what came out of her mouth "Anyhow, it's got noth….." She stopped giggling abruptly, she'd been about to say that it had got nothing to do with him and had then realised what she was saying so that she looked away, a faint flush appearing on her neck and starting to creep up to her cheeks.

"I didn't do that did I?"

"I wouldn't have minded if _you_ had" As he watched her and chewed at the inside of his bottom lip, the faint blush on her cheeks flared into a scarlet beacon of embarrassment "Shit Charles, I'm sorry, I shouldn't of said that, forget it, let's talk about some'ing else"

"What would you like to talk about?"

She shrugged meaning how the fuck do you expect me to know, ask me something easy why don't you? There was silence for a few minutes as they both concentrated on their food, flicking glances at each other, each waiting for the other to say something. She wasn't actually eating anything, her appetite had now totally deserted her so that she was just pushing her food around on the plate and trying to make it look as if she was eating it.

"Don't eat that if you don't want it, just leave it"

"Sorry, I'm just not very hungry, sorry"

"Stop saying you're sorry, it really doesn't matter" He put his own cutlery together neatly on one side of his plate, he'd barely touched his own lunch "I'm not very hungry either, shall we just go?"

The elephant in the corner of the posh restaurant came hurtling over to their table as the moment she'd been dreading ever since she'd got there, well ever since his phone call in fact, finally arrived, but it was also the moment she found she couldn't wait any longer.

"Charles, what about Georgia?"

"What?" Bewilderment was written all over his face so that she had this awful moment of piercing doubt, either he didn't know what she was talking about and she'd done it again, added two and two and made twenty two, or he was a better actor than George Clooney "What are you on about?" He shook his head and shrugged, a totally puzzled expression on his face "I presume you're talking about Lane here? Medic, bit taller than you even with those bloody silly shoes you're wearing? Lane, good at her job, nice looking girl, follows orders and doesn't argue with the boss all the bloody time, does as she'd told, that Georgia?"

"Alright, no need to bleeding well rub it in"

"What about her?"

-OG-


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: This is the last Chapter of my take on what happens after S2 and hopefully there won't be any technical issues involved today. I am not good when technology goes to sh*t, I have no patience at all and yesterday there were not only problems with the FF site but then my laptop started eating things as well, still fingers crossed … Hope you enjoyed this and can bear to review for me, please …. I am about to embark on something new so my addiction is alive and well !? Still, it's raining out there and you can't clean when it's raining can you? I know it wasn't raining yesterday, but yesterday I was throwing a major strop because nothing was working …. .**_

 _ **THE WALK**_

Molly had no idea how the hell she was supposed to answer him especially as he had that expression on his face that said she'd got it all spectacularly wrong and that he was a bit pissed at her, he hadn't invited her here to tell her about getting off and playing happy families with what's her face, although, of course, that didn't mean that there wasn't someone else in his life, just not her, not Georgia. Molly couldn't think now why she'd spent so much time convincing herself.

"What the hell put that idea in that head of yours, Dawsey?"

"I dunno, I just thought that you and 'er, well, Brains said she was well posh and I thought …..…"

"You know me better than that, at least I thought you did" He picked up her hand where it was on the table and turned it over, looking at it before putting it up to his lips and brushing a light kiss across her knuckles, never once taking his gaze away from her eyes "You didn't think at all did you? Look, Molly, Georgia Lane is a lot of things, she's a great medic, she's a good soldier, she's a very good looking girl …" He snorted a laugh as Molly bit her bottom lip and pulled a mutinous face.

"Yeah you already said that"

"And she does as she's told" He was beginning to sound a bit more amused than pissed at her.

"Yeah, you've said that too"

"But, she's not you is she?"

"What's that s'posed to mean exactly?"

He shook his head and smiled keeping their eye contact constant and not taking his gaze away from hers for a second "Come on let's go for a walk by the river, or find a bench because you've yet to prove you can walk in those things" He nodded towards her feet and smirked holding out his hand to her as she stood up to move away from the table.

"Course I can" Her voice sounded small and tight even to her own ears, she knew she was probably lying but wasn't really thinking about her shoes and walking in them, or not, her brain was busily working overtime trying to work out a new WHY? What was this lunch all about if it wasn't about him and thingy, Georgia?

The sunshine had got a bit hazy but it was still quite warm as they strolled onto the towpath, avoiding dog walkers and cyclists and the family groups with their pushchairs. Despite exchanging the odd sideways glance and smiling whenever they caught the other's eye, they walked in silence, hands staying a good six inches apart most of the time although their knuckles bumped against each other occasionally. Molly desperately wanted to slip her hand into his and to feel his fingers wrap themselves around hers, warm and comforting, a touch that she'd missed more than she could say, but she was still just a bit worried about what he was going to tell her.

It had taken them a long time to get out of the restaurant because the staff had been very concerned that there was something wrong with the food, they weren't used to meals being left virtually untouched on plates so that there was a lot of fuss. Molly whispered to him to just ask for a bloody doggy bag and keep everyone happy, but he'd raised his eyebrows and given her a 'look', then he'd shaken his head and gone back to his ultra-polite assurances that the food had been absolutely delicious, it was just their appetites that were at fault. As they got out in the sunshine she'd nudged him and giggled and said that it would have been far easier to get a bloody doggy bag and then to chuck it in the bin, but he didn't laugh, just frowned and told her to stop it and that he knew when she was trying to change the subject.

"No I'm not" She lied, even though that was exactly what she was trying to do, she'd been hoping that he'd forget all about the crap once they got outside in the sunshine even though she should have known better, she knew he had a memory like a bloody elephant "I just don't know what to say"

"I can't believe that you thought I wanted to talk about her" He sounded aggrieved as he shook his head and raised his eyebrows in disbelief as they walked along, Molly struggling to match his long strides and to keep up even though her feet were now throbbing balls of burning pain.

"Slow down"

"Sorry" He laughed and stopped walking "I always forget what a little slow coach you are, come on, you need to put more bloody effort in" He laughed again "Or do you want me to carry you?"

"Oh very funny, bleeding hilarious, I'm not a slowcoach, it's just you, you walk too bloody fast" She carefully didn't mention the absolute agony she was suffering from her feet.

He put his hand on the small of her back and to her intense relief guided her off the towpath towards a half empty bench, she hadn't been entirely sure how much further she could walk without starting to hobble and whimper. The old boy sitting there enjoying the sunshine and reading his paper looked up and smiled, said "nice day" and then glanced at them a couple of times as he saw them sitting side by side not touching or speaking, just staring at the river in silence. He folded his paper and got up, looking back over his shoulder at them as he walked away.

"He thinks he's being tactful, that we're having a domestic" Molly sneaked a sideways peep at Charles' face and giggled, not because she thought anything was remotely funny but because she felt a bit awkward and needed to fill the silence but couldn't think what to say.

"Are we?" Charles eventually turned and picked up her hand from her lap, putting it up to his lips and kissing it lightly "Was he right, is that what this is?"

"I dunno, you tell me"

"I remember I once told you that you were all I cared about, that I only wanted to make you happy and I remember you telling me that I'd really fucked that up, that I'd hurt you" He kissed the back of her hand again, keeping it against his lips for a long time as he looked at her face "But I really fucked things up after we got home, didn't I"

"No it weren't just you, I fucked things up as well, Charles. Shit, I was so bleeding sure that it was too good to be true, that we wouldn't last and that it was just some sort of _fling_ that you'd regret now we was home that I kept on looking for stuff that would prove I was right and of course I found it, you always find stuff if you look hard enough, don't you? Which meant I could say 'there you go, knew it, told you so' ….. never actually asked you what you wanted though, did I?"

"Nope, but I didn't know what I wanted. I'd had years of believing the army was all that mattered, well, apart from Sam, that it was my life and that my career _was_ me, it was what _defined_ me, do you know what I'm talking about?" She nodded "Then you came along" He wasn't watching her face anymore but was concentrating all his attention on the concrete base beneath the bench, legs slightly apart forearms resting on his thighs as he avoided her eyes. Suddenly he looked sideways up at her and gave a brief snort of laughter "Oh, I knew how much I loved you, that I wanted you, but you were so young, as you kept on reminding me, just twenty" He shrugged and paused " And as for the rest of it, well … " He shrugged and starting looking down at the ground again "I had no fucking idea what was going to happen next, where it was all going to end up"

"I'm still young" She laughed and put her hand on his arm doing her best to ignore the voice in her head that was screaming DON'T TOUCH, IT'LL HURT.

"You told me that you didn't give two shits about me"

"Did I? Don't remember sayin' that, I thought it was all very, you know, civilised 'n that, are you sure I said that?" He nodded "S'alright, I didn't mean it"

"I miss you" He fixed his gaze on the river in front of them almost as though he was avoiding looking at her face in case she looked appalled "I kept wondering where it had all gone so fucking _wrong_ and then I'd try and work out how to put it right" He turned to look at her with a broad grin on his face "Should have known you'd get the wrong end of the stick"

"That's not fair is it? you should of told me, should of said something"

"What?" He sounded incredulous as he laughed "And hear you say something that ended in "off"?"

"Wouldn't of" She looked up into his eyes and took a deep breath "I miss you too"

For once she was telling the plain unvarnished truth not only to him but to herself. For the last year she'd got up every morning and told herself that she didn't care anymore, that today was the day she'd forget all about the 'what might have been' and would accept the 'what's never gonna be' and that she didn't need him in her life to make her happy, that she wasn't ever going to be needy ever again. She took another very deep breath so that she was almost holding her breath as she dredged up the courage to ask the question that was hanging unspoken in the air between them as they both waited for the other to say something first.

"Are you sayin' that you still love me?"

"Of course I love you, I never stopped loving you" He put out his hand and stroked her face "Do you still love me?"

"Course I do, but I'm a bit scared, I don't want to be needy 'n that again like I was before"

"There's nothing wrong in needing someone Molly, I need you"

"Do you" She looked at him as he bit the inside of his lip and nodded "Well that's alright then isn't it?"

She was suddenly filled with laughter and love and relief and a whole load of other feelings, first and foremost of which was her need for him to kiss her as she wondered why things that were so simple seemed so difficult sometimes. This was Charles, of course it would feel right, it was incredibly right as he leaned forward and kissed her very softly, then broke away , cupping her face in his hand as he kissed her again still very softly and very gently, his pupils dark so that her heart and just about every other bit of her flipped over.

"Come on, if we stay here any longer I'll get arrested"

"I can't believe we've wasted so much bloody time"

"We've got all the time in the world as you keep on telling me, you're young"

"Yeah, but you're not"

"Oh lovely, thanks a lot"

"S'okay. you're welcome"

 **-OG-OG-OG-OG-OG-**

 _ **For those that want to fill in the HEA for yourselves and add some x-rated bits I suggest you skip the next bit …..**_

He was sitting up and leaning against the bedhead, arms folded behind his head as he turned and looked down at her curled up next to him, still sleeping peacefully with her dark curls spread all over the pillow. He leaned across so that he could check the time on his watch while being very careful not to wake her, it was still early but he'd been awake for some considerable time, just thinking. It was a very big day for them both.

"You okay?" Her voice was soft and sleepy as she put her arm over him and moved closer, cuddling up against his side.

"Yes, sorry did I wake you?" He bent and kissed the top of her head.

"Nah, you're alright" She stretched and yawned "Are you bothered about today? It's gonna be a bit strange for you innit, like going back to the past 'n that?"

"No it'll be fine, I'm looking forward to it"

"Do you think he'll be okay, shall I ring him, make sure?"

"No, he'll be fine, stop worrying"

Four hours later Colonel and Mrs James were sitting with 2nd Lieutenant Sam James on fairly uncomfortable chairs and casting doubtful looks at the sullen grey sky hoping fervently that it wouldn't rain. Eighteen year old Elliott James, tall and gangly was yet to grow into his height so that to his mother's eyes he was heartbreakingly slim in his dress uniform with a waist that looked as though you could snap it in two, was about to pass out from basic training and follow in both his father's and his stepbrother's footsteps by starting officer training at Sandhurst and both his parents were inordinately proud of him.

Elliott, the very happy accident that was a result of their passionate reunion at the Bingham Hotel where they'd checked in without so much as a toothbrush between them and had spent an entire afternoon, an evening and a night making up for the lost time of the previous year, a chain reaction that led to them sitting there today hoping and praying that it wouldn't rain. As well as a huge amount of love and pride, for Charles there was a massive sense of deja vue as he nodded acknowledgments to the people he vaguely recognised, first him, then Sam, now Elliott and seven year old Seb was already marching up and down constantly saluting him and Molly and Olivia his twelve year old sister as he pretended to be one of his big brothers.

As Charles sat there he remembered, just for a second, another young soldier, a funeral in Wales and a mother who'd said about giving her sons to the army, then told himself to stop it, that the day was a happy day not a day for painful memories. He wrapped Molly's hand in his then nudged her gently with his shoulder, winking when she looked up him in enquiry, her green eyes suspiciously moist, so that he squeezed her hand, bent his head and whispered "You okay Dawsey?"

"Yeah course I am, and don't call me that" She grinned at him "Sshhh, they're here"

They turned to watch as the ranks of young men and women, including their son, marched onto the parade ground all wearing totally serious expressions, and then grinned at each other, happiness and pride written all over them.


End file.
